


Growing Up Drabble #1 - Father's Day

by SPD



Series: Darkwing Duck - After the Mirror Broke [1]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Stalking, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:17:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7197419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPD/pseuds/SPD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small piece of written work that is based after The Negaverse Comic series which is currently running at http://dashpad.tumblr.com<br/>After the life altering events of the Negaverse encounter, a now older Gosalyn reminisces about her broken relationship with her father and the disturbing realizations that she feels way more than she should for him.  But it's not all bad right? At least there's someone depraved enough to take advantage of her emotional confusion...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Up Drabble #1 - Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Dashpad!](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/206852) by SPD. 



> Several pieces of the story are purposefully left blank for future story telling and are being developed and drawn at my Tumblr. Check it out! :D  
> http://dashpad.tumblr.com / http://dashpadxxx.tumblr.com (NSFW)  
> Like the content? Consider supporting my Patreon, link available at the Tumblr site. :)
> 
> This universe basically takes the concepts from the cartoon and new Comics (AMAZING stuff, by the way.) and draws a darker more disturbing aspect: What if Negaduck did have an infatuation like the other universe Darkwings seem to with Gosalyn? But what if, like him, it was a twisted reflection? 
> 
> Picture that Inspired it: http://dashpadxxx.tumblr.com/post/145894427292/nsfwdrabble-fathers-day-negaduck

Father’s day used to be one of her favorite holidays; a little yearly reminder of her unbelievable happenstance of being adopted by not just a great father…but a man that worked as a guardian angel for a city filled with some really messed up stuff. He was so unreal at times, so much bigger than life; so his father’s day had to be celebrated in just the same fashion. It was easy when all he wanted was to know his little girl loved him.  Breakfast in bed, a little home made gift and an enormous hug was all it took to cement their bond.

More-recently though, it was twenty-four hours of awkward pleasantries, passive aggressive shots, and hurt feelings.  Her relationship with her adopted father had shown no signs of repair even after all these years.  He treated her visits like he would a distant relative- mostly pleasant, courteous, but always with an underlining look of anxious uneasiness. A desperation for the return to normality.

It was that feeling, and respect for her father’s comfort, that made her decide to cut her visit short and return home to her one-bedroom apartment right in the middle of busy downtown St. Canard. It was an ideal location, minutes from her College and half an hours walk to the studio she interned at.   She had been afraid that her father would overwhelmingly refuse to let her stay in what he would over-dramatically refer to as a “heinously hideous horror house”, but instead the situation proved to once again remind her of just how far apart they’ve become.  He hadn’t objected; he hadn’t said a word.  He simply took in the sight of her poorly-painted teal apartment walls, dusty, old, slightly-splintered wooden floors, and her eager smile before going back out to help Launchpad unload the rest of her belongings from the family car. His neutral expression was forced, the slightest twitch in his right eye being the barest hint of disapproval.

As she watched them drive away that night, she became certain that things really had changed.

Everything was so different between them since that trip to the Negaverse; while Gosalyn wanted more than anything to forget her actions and try to move on, it seemed Drake was trapped in the moment of her decision. He couldn’t comprehend, couldn’t accept it...

 

He couldn’t possibly have raised a murderer.

 

Lined up like dominos, her faults began to compound.  Each one led to the discovery of another, and more theories regarding her motives.  One after another came to light as she aged and began to defiantly question the morality that was expected from her; her perspective on the world, like everything else, had changed since returning from the Negaverse. The sudden interest that Negaduck showed in her afterward only further abetted to opening her eyes.

_There’s always someone who wants to harm you, even if they don’t know you. Live for yourself, take what you want, and don’t let ANYONE get in your way._

This was the opposite of what her father claimed to live by, despite the contradiction of his tantrums over lack of recognition.

_Every single citizen's life matters, even the bad ones! Despite their despot devilry, Darkwing Duck defiantly denies delving to their depths and destroying decency by delivering death to their disposition! Justice must be served and they’ll do their time like every other white collared criminal. Heroes exist to serve the unsuspecting and often times underappreciating public._

She knew there was a balance to be found between each of their core beliefs, and she was determined to ride that line and prove herself, maybe even save the version of her father she secretly empathized… But, more than anything, she wanted to impress and earn the respect of her savior.  She could be the coolest anti-hero since Darkwing, maybe even do _more_ to keep the citizens of St. Canard safe.

Then, as if reality had gotten tired of her childish misconceptions and hopes, it threw the difficulties of puberty into the mix.  She had never felt as awkward in her body as she did in those first few years, enough so that her father insisted on making sure his little girl's head was screwed on properly.  Clearly, mood swings were unnatural for a growing child.

That's when the therapy started. At first it was together as a family, then just her and her father, until finally the therapist had realized that the only way she’d talk was one-on-one.  Despite Gosalyn’s desire to say nothing, she eventually admitted that her therapist seemed to honestly have her best interests in mind.  So, she eventually opened up and shared a few things that were on on her mind.  One, in particular, had become a problem; she was rather embarrassed to have a crush on St. Canard’s winged hero.

Of course, the therapist lacked the knowledge that Gosalyn’s infatuation was with her own father.  Or, rather his secret identity; she preferred to ‘mask’ the situation that way.  Humor helped the shame feel a bit less personal.

The therapist, naturally, had experienced her something like this herself. Why, who hadn’t been attracted to one celebrity or another? Their handsome features or heroic acts make them easy fodder for fantasy and an enticing blueprint for a potential mate.  Gosalyn had no reason to feel ashamed! It would pass, but in the meantime, there was no harm to explore the sexual emotions it stirred, and maybe, to even sometimes use it to help relieve stress.

Yeah… Maybe – _probably -_ if the therapist had known just a little bit more about the situation, she wouldn’t have suggested that.  Or, at the very least, she would have suggested locking the door to eliminate the possibility of surprise appearances by said celebrity.

Nobody slept well that night… except Launchpad. Blessed are the ignorant deep sleepers.

 

People were always afraid to walk around late in St. Canard and Gosalyn was thankful that there were no encounters in her neighborhood this night; she egotistically attributed it to the reputation of her secret identity.  With Quiverwing, nobody had to die all the time, but you’d probably wish you had for as long as you’d spend in recovery.  She looked up at the old brownstone covered in dust and soot, vandalized again despite Quiverwing’s best efforts.

This was home now.

Up three flight of creaky wooden stairs and down a low-lit hallway was her room- Apartment 3-D, as if the corny geek jokes her loser next door neighbor made needed more fuel.  Oh well, that was the last time hed try to feel up her three dimensions.  College students…

Her apartment door opened with a noisy squeak and the jangle of her keys.  The room was dark, save for the black lights that decorated the edges of her small, cubical aquarium.  A single, lavender-colored beta fish swam lazily in the center of its tank, its elegantly long tail swayed with the ebb of the filter’s current. “Sorry I was gone for so long, Drakey,” she muttered apologetically to her dweeby fish.  A sad smile crossed her beak; all those years she had argued with her father to have a ‘cool ass’ pet, and now that she was on her own, free to keep any demented monstrosity of her choice, and she opped for something as mundane as a fish. She just didn’t have the time and money for anything bigger.

Being grown up really does bite.

“I was gonna stay the night but, you know, dad…” she trailed off awkwardly. 

The dim, yellowed light from the hallway framed just how empty her room was. The fish tank sat bubbling beside her twin bed and computer desk, a few shelves lined the walls filled with CDs that she never listened to anymore because she had ripped them to her laptop’s hard drive.  The blue tint from the aquarium illuminated just enough to outline the various books, clothes, and food containers littered across the floor and tabletops.  Shadows and reflections from the tank danced across the floor; it made objects feel unreal, save for the intrusion of the hallway lights that showed the face of ugly reality. She shut the door behind her with a snap and turned the lock closed.  With a ragged sigh, Gosalyn slumped against the doorframe and closed her eyes.  She hated when it felt this bad in her mind.

“Why’d everything have to get so messed up…” she whispered, almost in a whiny sob.  “Why’d he have to find out?”

“Because he’s an egotistical, nosy loser,” Negaduck’s silky deep voice came from the darkest corners of the room.  Her heart leapt into her throat and she pushed off the frame into a defensive pose.   Her eyes darted blindly in the dark, desperate to see some form of shimmer from his cufflinks, the sheen from his chainsaw, the glow of his eerie red eyes, anything to locate him. “Now, me? I’m a manipulative, murderous, low-life letch,” he stated proudly, then emerged from the darkness in front of her, his yellow and red costume mulled by the shimmered water, his face partially obscured by his fedora.  His predatory smile seemed brighter in the black lights. “…but I have no problem with giving you exactly what we _both_ know you want.”

“Shoulda known you’d show up tonight.” Gosalyn responded, her courage gathered when she realized she was in no real danger.  It was clear that he only wanted to “talk” again, something he began to do in excess after their run-in in the Negaverse.  “Been stalking me again?”

“Guys gotta have a pastime when he’s not sowing the seeds of sinister stratagems,” he stepped close to her, purposefully to deny breathing space.  “Besides… you can’t say you’re not glad I’m here… It sounds like goodie good daddy has disappointed again.”

Gosalyn looked away, furious at herself for having shown weakness to him about something so personal.  This display of shame merited a chuckle from her father’s doppelganger; he shifted closer and pressed his beak against the side of her face, his crimson fedora rim folded back against her auburn hair.  His breath was warm, heavy and rumbled in her ear.  “Always judging you…” he mockingly crooned, “never letting you forget that awful choice you had to make…”  His tongue lightly flecked along her neck, sharp teeth nipped her goose-pimpled flesh.  “How it… changed our relationship.”

Gosalyn stifled a moan under his perverse touch and silently cursed her disgusting physical wants; this wasn’t what she wanted.  She needed to regain her senses.  She was desperate for space to breathe.  She pushed her hands between them and tried to pry his body away from hers, tried to ignore the solid strength in his immoral, assertive advancements, “Believe me, if I could go back and do it differently...”

“You wouldn’t change a _damned_ thing,” He cut her off curtly, the same way her father would reprimand her when she was younger, only he added what she could only guess was flirtation in his eyes. “…other than your father being a wuss and reacting like a little baby instead of…” he paused, breathing sharply in her ear, “appreciating what divine fortune has fallen into his lap.”  His strong arms pulled her closer, harder.  “He’s the only problem isn’t he? He just can’t handle the fact that his little baby girl has grown up issues now, that she has needs…”  His last few words were drawn out, heavy with lingering implications of lewd anticipation.  “dirty, twisted, fun desires…”

Gosalyn blushed.  She pushed herself away to glare into his eyes as she gave him one last warning.  She had grown tired of his advances; they no longer disturbed her, only served to remind her of what she couldn’t have with the real one; with Darkwing.  “You need to back off before I--”

“…AND,” he stopped her again, his smile coy and eyebrow arced flirtatiously. “I’m the closest you’ll ever come to fulfilling them.”

Her stomach dropped, this was a new step. Was he really about to suggest…?

She opened her mouth to counter his egotistical declaration but was stopped short by the sudden invasion of his tongue into her mouth, long and explorative, warm and wet.  She could taste the faint flavor of whiskey and smell bitter cigar smoke on his breath. He reeked of all the places Darkwing would never go, of things he would never do.  Vices and selfish hedonism.  It disgusted her.

Didn’t it?

Her body was of a different mindset; it responded to his rough stimulation.  His hands groped along her curves with occasional pauses to linger on parts of her no father in their right mind would ever touch, and her mind reeled with possibilities.  This wasn’t right…  This was maybe the worst thing she could do to her father, to pretend someone else was him…

But it felt…

It felt so amazing and familiar in a wishful way.

She wanted to close her eyes and imagine that it was her purple-clad hero, the handsome man who took her away from her lonely life in the orphanage and gave her a world filled with adventure, love, and acceptance.

Only …it wasn’t.  It wasn’t him... and it wasn’t like that anymore.

Drake had never really accepted her; he always wanted her to change, always be a good little girl…  Always something she wasn’t, no matter how hard she tried just for him.

His beak parted from hers slowly.  Their eyes locked once again, and he maintained that annoyingly libidinous smile.  He had her now; he knew it. “Well? Is Bad Daddy gonna get his Father’s Day gift?”

Gosalyn’s eyes teared up in frustrated physical repression.  She was so lonely for him...  Just one little moment of pretend, could it truly hurt their relationship any more?  Her reserve wilted under his gaze and with an unsteady sigh, she closed her eyes and submitted.

“Happy Father’s day, dad.”

His sharp smile gleamed in the darkness.

 


End file.
